


Elysian

by mari_aye



Category: MCND (Band)
Genre: But only if you squint, Fluff and Humor, Gen, How Do I Tag, Huijun POV, Humor, Idiots, Kinda, Light Angst, Seongjun is a big bro, Slice of Life, Songfic, They all care and love each other, all of them - Freeform, gemstones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:27:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28916847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mari_aye/pseuds/mari_aye
Summary: Perfectionism is the Garden of Eden growing reignless inside your mind— stems slowly seeping through the cracks of your skull until your lungs become scented with them, until your eyes are obscurred by rose thorns, until your voice and bones and fingertips are laced with vines.An obsession, perhaps.A hunger.
Relationships: Bang Junhyuk | Win & Nam Seungmin | BIC & No Huijun & Son Seongjun | Castle J & Song Minjae
Comments: 14
Kudos: 11





	1. Topaz

_'South Korea has been a treasure-trove of purple amethyst, smoky topaz and white jade for centuries._

_This rugged, mountainous country continues to mine semi-precious stones in a wide range of colors, and the stones are sold in the many jewelry shops and underground arcades in the capital city of Seoul.'_

_SHOPPER'S WORLD; JEWELRY, GEMS AND JADE OF SEOUL —The New York Times._

* * *

_**TOPAZ** _

_Fiery, high self-esteem, trust in one's abilities._

  
  
  


He felt weightless, as his arms idly hovered a couple inches above his body. 

The first thing he noticed was how cold the water was. But the impulse to curl up on himself for warmth never came. The cold wasn't like the aftermath of a blizzard, or standing still in an active avalanche.

Rather, it was more like being snuggled up in a blanket left under the air conditioner for too long, a sweet relief from the thirty-nine degrees world outside.

He felt the cold enclose every inch of him in an almost invasive way, like water filling up every corner of its container. Oddly enough, it softened some of the tension in his shoulders, and he loosened like a ragdoll.

Somehow, he could feel a waterfall nearby, tugging on him.

A persistent boom from the water filled his ears; it effectively blocked out whatever was going on in the world. And for a moment, he couldn't bring himself to really care about it. The silence was deafening. Save for the water's murmurs, and the endless thump of his heartbeat, almost echoing. Each beat sent a sensation akin to a needle piercing his eardrums.

_Ba-bump_

_Ba-bump_

_Ba-bump_

It was, however, steady— almost sounding like music.

He felt weightless, yet heavy, like he had soaked up all the oceans in the world. His lungs felt like aquariums, the tickle of the fins of Betta fish made him breathe mint, suffocating, his skin feeling like it was the waves of water itself. His hair floated above his eyes, tickling his forehead and eyelids. He blinked them open.

Even though it was difficult to see through the hues of deep blues, he made out a blur of beige and chocolate, intertwined like floating pieces of coral. And navy blue. Lots of it. Bordering on the edges of his vision, with the ocean blue beaded in a straight line, stretching to as far as he could see.

Something compelled him to believe he was in a downed aeroplane.

A voice echoed through it; a voice like that of belonging in a dense crowd, where you swear someone had called out your name. It diffused through the water, neither ripples nor waves remained depicting any sign of its existence. He felt something move above the craft, and he felt like his ribcage was collapsing.

Bubbles of air escaped him like liquid marble, obscuring his vision like that of tears, and he struggled against the comfort of the blues.

_"You don't just tell people what you dream, Huijun._

_You show them."_

  
  
  
  
  


Light drips through the windows, spilling onto his skin and eyes.

Watching red bloom behind his eyelids, he involuntarily squeezes them shut before blinking awake. Immediately, Huijun allows the unwelcome sense of discomfort to take refuge under his skin.

That one was probably one of the more uneventful dreams he's had. He's had dreams filled with unkind eyes, dreams where his mind is replaced by fireflies.

_'And probably one of the more vivid ones,'_ Huijun believes.

He sluggishly peels himself from the desk and straightens his back, earning himself a few small pops. He doesn't bother hiding a gaping yawn behind his hand, not when it was prickling with pins and needles.

He screws his eyes shut and presses the hills of his palm against an eyelid. He reopens them to catch a sliver of winter dawnlight drenching the curtains, painting the room with a brilliant topaz glow. It gives the impression of an ocean enclosed in walls, and suddenly his mouth feels dry.

"Seungmin hyung, what time is it?" Huijun mumbles, rubbing his eye again. When he receives silence for an answer, he spins his chair towards the room to look for him. 

Through his fuzzy morning vision, Huijun sees a view of their room drowned in blue. No skinny elf with wild hair and a bright smile in his field of vision.

_'Oh— he isn't awake yet._

He doesn't even know why he thought Seungmin would be awake. From the looks of the view outside, it doesn't look like it's 8 am. _'If Seungmin hyung's still asleep, it's probably really early.'_

He stretches for his phone, that was somehow decked onto the upper bunk's mattress— Huijun doesn't want to question how it got there— where, indeed, Seungmin silently slumbers. Huijun pauses and watches his relaxed face buried in pillows. The day before, Seungmin had deliberately finished all of his pudding, leaving a bitter Huijun to buy himself more.

_'I'm going to steal his snack bars',_ He plots, almost too eagerly.

His phone blinds him with a big _'5:47 am'_ confirming that yes, Huijun needs to go back to sleep. He sighs and leans back against the chair, head thrown back lazily, eyes shut but awake.

He smells in the air freshener Seungmin used— a bit excessively, if Huijun is honest; his nose had itched throughout a good portion of the night. It doesn't matter now, as the scent has been reduced to nothing but a pleasant air of mint and lavender.

_'At least it doesn't smell like the house is on fire,'_ Huijun slides down his seat a little, eyes on the verge of zipping shut.

His head pounds like a band of Janggu drummers, and he starts to kind of regret abandoning the painkillers Minjae offered the night before.

_"What's the point of being on a break when you've got a headache?"_ He had grinned. Huijun had ought not to take them on an empty stomach, and denied them until he had his dinner. The night rolled in and he forgot to take them.

He opens his eyes to be greeted by the scratchy paper remains of the glow in the dark stars Seongjun stuck on a while ago, amidst the ceiling screened with blues and hints of gold from the window.

_'We need to get rid of those,'_ Huijun muses.

He shifts in his seat to stare down at the spiral notebook splayed open before him, lyric ideas scrawled alongside mindless in-margin doodles. He runs his hands through his hair frustratedly. He tears them away before he can tug any more and instead busies himself by twirling a stray pencil.

Lately, his mind had run dry— probably an effect of burnout, but Huijun wouldn't admit that to himself, not yet— and the desperate scribbles prove to be repetitive and irritable to look at. He lightly pushes his chair away from the desk and spins on it distractedly.

_'Holding back the stars, dividing us in new ways, away from sleep.'_

It's so sudden— Huijun doesn't even remember where that's from— but this line resurfaces his watery reverie like a submarine and manages to wreck yet another wave of dull aches pooling through his skull.

His head feels hollow, empty ideas cluttering, bouncing around like echoes in a hull. The aquarium in his mind has ran dry, and emotion seems like a chore now, a forced necessity he doesn't have enough battery for. All that he can feel right now, is cobalt— filling his eyes, his lungs, his cold fingertips and— 

_Headache._

_Headache. Headache. Headache._

He just felt unplugged, that's all, right?

Eventually, Huijun comes to his senses and gives up trying to think of anything, using the hour to excuse himself to sleep. 

_'It's finally break week, I shouldn't rush this,'_ He heaves in a breath before slapping the notebook shut and standing up.

This abruptness litters static around his vision, and his body feels like it's falling. He blinks it away and grabs the bunk bed's cold metal pillar to stabilise himself. He pauses to let his brain get a grip, static diffusing back to normal, and scrambles into his cool duvet.

He tosses and turns, in hopes of warming up, but to no avail. A few moments later, Huijun concludes the duvet is stuffed with snow, and grumbles upright again.

_'I should have my new heater in here somewhere,'_ Huijun reaches in his bedside drawer to fish for it.

_'Aha!'_ Adjusting its settings, he effectively snuggles into his now slowly warming cocoon. Not even a minute later, Huijun drifts into a dreamless slumber.

  
  
  
  


_how to sleep— Eden_


	2. Sunstone

_**SUNSTONE** _

_Benevolent, good-natured, joyous._

  
  
  


"...jun." It's still cold. Huijun coils his duvet closer to himself.

"..ijun." _'Seungmin hyung?’_

"Mmh?"

"Huijun!" A sharp voice cut through the fog in his mind.

" _What_?" Huijun tried to sound threatening, he really did, but alas, the groggy state of mind listens to no one. He furrows his brows and turns away from the older.

"Get up, get up, get up," Seungmin lazily grips his shoulder. Ever since Huijun had revealed that annoying the others was the best way to wake them up, Seungmin had been putting it into good use. Namely, against himself.

After several torturous seconds of Seungmin relentlessly shaking him, Huijun finally gives up and throws his covers away.

The walls were now coloured a bright wheat, touched with blushes of reds and oranges from their potted flowers near the window sill. Blinding ribbons of sunlight ran down the room and Huijun almost wanted to cover his eyes back again.

Seungmin, the brightest of the sun rays, was already on the other side of the room fishing for his toothbrush through the drawers.

"It's 8:30," He answers a question forming in Huijun's mind before he could even speak.

_'This man is already glowing,'_ Huijun admires in his sleepy haze.

He readies himself along with Seungmin, the occasional forceful jab in the side accompanied by either of the two complaining.

Seungmin leaves their room, and Huijun quietly sneaks around the corner of the door to make sure he's out of earshot. He swiftly scrambles to where he knows Seungmin hides his secret snack stash, seemingly safe from the rest: The broken drawer.

It was a small box tucked away in the farthest corner of the drawer frame, like a treasure chest of goodies for anyone who dares to venture into the mess in the drawers. A deceiving contrast to the admirable cleanliness of their room.

Huijun loots a few snack bars, unwrapping one as a morning snack and pocketing the rest for the others— _if_ he's feeling nice enough. Bar trapped between his teeth, he neatly rearranges the place. He stuffs the wrapper in a pair of old jeans, leaving no trace behind.

_'It is done,'_ Huijun grins to himself.

He grabs the door knob and heads outside, only to jump back inside as two figures whiz past him. He peaks outside and finds the backs of Minjae and Junhyuk, hand in hand and very unstable on their feet. 

_'..Socks?'_ Huijun amusedly watches the two slide against bare tiles with only socks on, sniggering like toddlers.

It doesn't take long for Junhyuk to fail in maintaining his balance. He tumbles, his legs making a full right angle as he falls to his demise, bringing down Minjae with him, making Huijun and a few staff members around them burst into laughter.

Seongjun is already around the corner, hand-chopping the two's heads. If Huijun didn't know better, it looked like Seongjun was just waiting for them to make a fool of themselves.

_'Admirable,'_ Huijun agrees. If only Seungmin were to witness this, he wouldn't have lived it down.

Huijun locks the door and follows down the noisy hallway, the window on the end illuminating the walls with a bright and soothing sunstone. To his right, Seungmin passes by Minjae on the kitchen table, who is leaning his weight on an arm gripping a chair, the other clutching his back, groaning in pain.

"You look like a grandpa," Seungmin receives a not-so-elderly smack on the back of his head.

As the five along with a few other staff members sit down to eat, breakfast's silence becomes punctuated with hard jabs and ruthless teasing. On occasion, Minjae would rip out a deliberately bad high note with the intention of breaking everyone's ear drums—

_"You're the one 'till my tan fades away! Get on a train and we'll be strangers again—Mmrph!"_

"Minjae, shut your beak!"

—like so.

Huijun enjoys mornings like these, he decides as he idly watches Seongjun and Minjae wrestle, the former clearly having a hard time. Times like these are when they can all truly loosen up without the persistent nag of work holding them back.

Seungmin in particular shines brighter than the sun during mornings like these, and sometimes it's blinding to watch. But they feed off of this sun anyways, because he's got so much to give.

Even during practices, Seungmin would act as their last ounces of fuel. And this would almost make him cruel sometimes— his energy is relentless, determined, and he would keep going even when Huijun felt like his bones were aflame. Unbeknownst to the Seungmin, he became notorious in the company for pushing the five's limits of exhaustion.

Sometimes, Huijun would wonder if Seungmin's blood runs with plasma from the core of a star— eyes molten like in the world of a glassworker, warmth eternally radiating from his every move like an intimidating aura.

_'Sunburns,'_ Huijun squints at the older, who's talking animatedly with no audience, seemingly unbothered.

"Who did you see in your dreams today?" Seongjun, who is twirling a pencil between his fingers, seemed to be reading something out loud from his phone- probably a list of drafted lyrics.

Seungmin swallows his food heavily then pipes excitedly, "I saw Junhyuk—" He breaks into a coughing fit, thumping his chest.

"You saw _me_ in your dreams?" The boy in question asks in a small voice, visibly touched. Seungmin makes a face through wheezes.

"Yeah, it was a nightmare," He rasps, laughing mutely at his own joke. This elicits a round of snickers around the room, and Junhyuk whacks a stray pencil eraser at him.

Like so, these mornings are usually when Seungmin is at his fullest, attacking anyone in a five meter radius from him. 

_'His energy can not be contained, for it would melt the container,'_ Huijun thinks in earnest, eyes sparkling.

Huijun and Seungmin are exchanging stories and ideas while Minjae and Junhyuk are scrolling through and laughing at what probably are Gems' tweets.

On occasion, one of them would jokingly address the other by pointing his chopsticks at him, which would result in the other's provocation to think of missions to sabotage or prank as revenge.

It's normal.

"Is there a word that's a mix between angry and sad?" Seongjun asks without looking up from his screen.

Huijun raises his chin in thought. "Malcontented, miserable..," he counts his fingers as Seongjun nods absent-mindedly, "..disgruntled, desolated—"

"Smad." The room immediately falls into a comfortable silence. 

Seungmin sulks.

Seongjun scribbles away in his notebook, suddenly even more focused. Minjae resumes his breakfast, watching Junhyuk scroll through TikTok. Huijun finds Minjae's state of serenity an opportunity to play with his hair, despite the obvious distaste of the latter. 

Ever since Minjae had been given the green light to grow out his hair, there had been an abundance of stray hair clips and pins littered around their dorm. This also meant it felt amazing threading your fingers through them, so the four would find excuses to play with it.

Huijun leans over Minjae's shoulder to peek at Junhyuk's phone, "What'cha doin'?"

Before Junhyuk could open his mouth, Minjae grumbles, "Happy 'Let's annoy Minjae' Day to you too."

"Aight."

  
  


_Sunburn —Droeloe_


	3. Tanzanite

**_TANZANITE_ **

_Speaking the truth from the heart, translating emotions to words._

  
  
  


Huijun grumbles as he scrubs at the plate, visibly irritated. A pale yellow foam coats his fingers, making his skin crawl and his eyes narrow.

It's no surprise Huijun hates cleaning the dishes, and it's no surprise the rest laughed, delighted Huijun lost at that game of Rock, Papers, Scissors.

_'Curse my affinity for throwing Papers first,'_ Huijun picks up the dirty fry pan.

"Yknow," Seongjun starts, and Huijun nearly drops the pan. Seongjun doesn't notice this, opting to aid the younger in cleaning up the remainder of the kitchen.

"If you put on some music while doing something you don't like, time'll pass quicker," Seongjun grunts, having to stretch for a stray salt shaker sitting at the horizon of his reach.

Huijun raises a brow at this.

"I'm heading out," Seongjun is met with a distracted nod, "meet me in the studio after this. I promise it'll take just an hour this time," the older glances at him almost sheepishly as he tosses the keys to said room to the younger.

"Okay hyung," Huijun flashes a small smile, pocketing them. Once the older was out of sight, Huijun washes and wipes his hands, then scrolls through his playlists to select a song.

At first, he keeps getting distracted by the beat, but slowly, his mind floats away to the cosmos built in his mind, surrounding himself in a sea of melodies, his body working on autopilot. True to Seongjun's word, it felt like he was getting his work done faster.

_'Huh_ ,' Huijun glances at the empty, tidy sink before wiping his hands with the towel one last time, ' _Well, I guess music is magic in more ways than one.'_

He finishes up, the music now reduced to white noise as he leaves the clean kitchen with his phone.

Half-way through approaching their shared room, Huijun jumps a foot in the air as Seungmin slides out, grabbing the door frame to stop him from crashing into the wall opposite to him. His hair is a mess— _'What else is new,'_ Huijun deadpans internally. Seungmin's eyes were wide and filled with suspicion.

"Where are my snacks?"

_Oh_ — yikes.

"Dunno, aren't I supposed to ask that?" Huijun replies, not breaking eye contact.

But as Seungmin shifts closer until there's an inch left, squinting hard, Huijun barely manages to beat back a grin. ' _This guy does make me put up a good fight for a handful of snacks,'_ Huijun admits.

After a good few seconds of eye-contact, it turned into a full blown staring contest. Hickory eyes made Huijun's own sear, and he blinked, Seungmin laughing haughtily at Huijun's dryness-induced tears. He pats— no— slaps the younger on the back, the sting making him hiss.

"I'll go bother Minjae and Junhyuk, I still have a snack case to crack," Seungmin declares with a grin.

"I wish you the best of luck, Detective S.," Huijun pretends to massage the place Seungmin assaulted, effectively dodging suspicion.

"Detective S.," Seungmin brings his index finger to his chin thoughtfully, "has a nice ring to it."

"Hey Huijun hyung," Junhyuk's head pops up from the end of the hallway. It looked like he was carrying something— probably his drafts, which reminds Huijun why he's in front of his shared room in the first place.

"Yeah?" Junhyuk gestures to his drafts, and Huijun nods.

"Yeah, I got them, gimme a sec," Huijun shuffles inside, rummaging through his drawers.

"Hey," Seungmin calls out, and Huijun turns his head towards him, only to realise he's talking to Junhyuk. Huijun resumes.

"What?"

"What."

"What."

"What?"

_"What?"_

"Your fly's down."

" _WHAT_?!" Huijun can't help but burst into laughter at Junhyuk's shrill voice. When Huijun finally finds the stapled papers, he grabs his notebook from the desk and peeks through the doorway to Seungmin, who's cackling.

"How long..?!" Junhyuk is turned, frantically shuffling, simultaneously trying not to drop his stuff.

"No clue, this entire time?" The older two wear matching grins, and Huijun can see Junhyuk crumble right before his eyes. The boy is known to usually make a big deal out of small embarrassments like these, and it only adds to the humor.

"Whatever," Huijun says, grabbing Junhyuk's arm and starts walking away, "Studio."

Huijun turns his head to watch Seungmin, satisfaction painting his features, off to probably bother Minjae. 

Junhyuk sulks the entire way, grumbling even as Huijun fumbles with the keys, unlocking the door to the studio. He flicks the fluorescent lights on, ignoring the switches to the coloured ones for now, just so Junhyuk doesn't complain any more than he already is. Huijun seats himself on a swivel chair near one of the music stabilisers and Junhyuk plops onto the small, low and worn black leather sofa. 

Waiting, Huijun busies himself by spinning on the chair, eyes following the designs on the ceiling. Junhyuk slumps, on his phone, clearly annoyed. 

"Hurry up, damn—"

Seongjun bursts through the door, startling Junhyuk, earning a snicker from the older.

"Snacky tiiiiime~" He announces in a sing-song fashion, holding a shopping bag full of what Huijun presumes are snacks. The younger two erupt in drawn out noises of appreciation.

"What's in the ammunition?" Huijun asks, rubbing his palms together.

"Eh," Seongjun slouches drowsily and hands the bag to Junhyuk, who tosses a bar of caramel chocolate to Huijun.

"What's _your_ ammunition?"

Junhyuk and Huijun hand their drafts over. Just as Huijun sinks back into his chair, Seongjun simply places their papers aside, clearly a good distance away from their usual work space. This neglect makes Junhyuk squint.

"Hey—"

"I _told_ you two it's break week," Seongjun breaks Huijun off. His voice sounds almost commanding, and it makes the younger two shift in their seats.

"It might sound hypocritical coming from me, but I would like for you to take your time on this one." Huijun doesn't really understand who he's referring to. His gaze is fixated on Seongjun as he strides over to the light switches, and with a few clicks, the room is bathed in a hue of deep tanzanite.

The younger two exchange a significant look as Seongjun occupies a chair next to Huijun's.

"We have time," and Seongjun flashes them a smile that shines through violet ocean walls, a smile that hides a dozen stars, a smile unlike anything he's ever given on camera.

_'Well, except that one time,_ ' Huijun remembers. His shoulders fall, and he releases a breath he doesn't know he's holding.

He casts another look at Junhyuk, who seems to be in a similar state.

"Okay, fine," Junhyuk wears a small smile, eyes averted from the older, fiddling with his phone.

"What about the others?" Huijun asks. If they're getting a free chill session, he's pretty sure the ones who need it the most would be Minjae and Seungmin. (That, and because he doesn't want them to be left out— Huijun would never admit this, ofcourse.)

Seongjun shrugs, "Sure, bring them in."

Huijun spams the two a few (several) missed calls in their group, at which Minjae finally picks up.

_"What?!"_

"Come to the studio."

"No, I'm warm right now."

"Seongjun hyung is calling you."

There is a beat of silence from the other end.

Then— "Fine, but if there's no snacks, I'm ditching."

"Bring Seungmin hyung with you."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Here, talk to Seongjun hyung," Huijun passes the phone to said older, at which he nonchalantly ends the call, pulling a chortle from Junhyuk.

Spinning in the chair, Huijun scrolls through the group's conversations; he slowly realises that their conversations are either food, or being at each other's throats.

—

seajay: i wanna buy this watch but it's like 10k something won.

jerry: we could sell junhyuk.

seajay: yeah but what about the other 9,999

satan: seongjun hyung you know i can see you, right?

—

Naturally, Huijun got dizzy, and opted to ditch the swivel chair for the second, smaller sofa opposite that of Junhyuk's.

Seungmin takes his cue to burst through the door, followed by Minjae, successfully disturbing whatever peace there was in the room.

"You said snacks," He addresses Seongjun.

"I didn't lie, sit." 

Seungmin falls onto the sofa next to Junhyuk, deliberately shaking the piece of furniture, to which he receives a smack on the back for an answer. Minjae plops himself over Huijun's lap, the latter's hands automatically reaching for the former's hair.

Junhyuk tosses a packet of chips to the duo, and Huijun decides to make himself comfortable by slumping his posture, almost knocking Minjae to the floor.

"Sit still, damn." The only thing that made Huijun comply was the fact that Minjae was warm, comfortingly warm. His eyes turned to Seongjun, who was busy on his laptop. Huijun squints.

"Hey, I thought you said we got time."

"What's this about?" Minjae peeks from his position.

Seongjun opens his mouth to speak, but Huijun beats him to it.

"He said we're taking the day off, that's why he pulled us from work."

"Petition to shut down hyung's laptop," Seungmin lazily raises his arm.

"You guys—" Seongjun tries to speak again.

"Seongjun-hyung, king of hypocrisy!" Junhyuk declares, the remainder's responses overlapping.

"I'm just trying out a beat that came to mind! Let me speak!" Seongjun seems visibly agitated.

"Yeah yeah, gimme my papers," Junhyuk tries to reach from his position.

_"Oi—_ " Seongjun laughs and snatches them away, storing them above the grey metal locker.

"Listen, kids," there's a voice mimicking Seongjun, and in response, the voice of the eldest grows stern, "I'm just doing some light stuff, it has nothing to do with our work. It's just me testing out stuff."

Seungmin scoffs, defeated, "Sure." Apparently, it's enough for Seongjun, and he resumes his work.

Huijun starts fiddling with Minjae's hair again, and upon a glance, he sees the others sitting in the same tense atmosphere; the sound of clicking the only thing that is breaking an otherwise strained silence falling over the room.

Suddenly, there's the sound of rain, a car ding on repeat, then a break into a simple beat. All heads snap to Seongjun's turned back, and Huijun's shoulders drop.

Seongjun's arms are cradling the back of his head, body slumped against the chair, an ankle resting on his knee. His breathing is even and calm, a rare sight. He ever sits so casually like this only when he is truly relaxed, free to neglect what expectations he has to carry— especially those that stem from Seongjun's own perfectionism.

Perfectionism might be an ill suited term, Huijun feels. It speaks like a chaste, valuable stone mined from the depths of the mind, the pollutions of it all painted like smoke on the stage.

Perfectionism is the Garden of Eden growing reignless inside your mind— stems slowly seeping through the cracks of your skull until your lungs become scented with them, until your eyes are obscurred by rose thorns, until your voice and bones and fingertips are laced with vines.

An obsession, perhaps. 

A _hunger_. 

A type of drug so beautiful it keeps its victim awake at night, frantically clicking away at his laptop, scribbling in his notebooks, cooped up in his studio. Until his vessels run with words instead of blood, until music notes substitute his synapses.

A hunger. 

Huijun swallows.

Minjae and Seungmin exchange significant looks, Junhyuk chews on his lip nervously, and Huijun buries his hands into Minjae's hair in an attempt to warm his rapidly chilling fingertips.

"Fine." Seongjun's voice was soft, breathy, endeared. It vaguely reminded Huijun of when Seongjun would talk to children, or when Rookie would tear up some toilet paper. A voice through the oceans, the rocks that beach it smoothened by its waves. Seongjun's voice was cold, but the impulse for Huijun to curl up to Minjae for warmth never came.

_"You don't just tell people what you dream, Huijun._

_You show them."_

That.

That is the tone he is reminded of.

Indigos colour music notes, and the five fall into a cave-like silence.

  
  
  
  


_Lay-by— Tennyson_


	4. Ruby

_**RUBY** _

_Purity, intimacy, courageous, affectionate._

  
  
  


Huijun did end up curling up with Minjae, both dozing off for a good forty-five minutes on the couch. Apparently Junhyuk too had slept against Seungmin, who later complained about him ending up with a backache. No one bought it, Huijun grins internally.

He yawns as he pokes his last piece of meat on his plate with his chopsticks. The meal was delicious, courtesy of Minjae, and Huijun regrets the snacks he took prior to dinner time. The entire table seems to be in a similar state of reverie, a stark contrast to their breakfast. Minjae didn't seem to really mind, as his limbs too were just merely dangling.

Though, Huijun whole heartedly believes Seongjun has the mind of a genie; for some reason, the eldest knows which songs can lull the members to a realm of calm.

Except Seungmin, Huijun supposes. It more or less seems to be the other way around for the eldest two. Huijun pops the piece of meat in his mouth, says his thanks, and deposits his plate in the sink. It's a relatively warmer evening, he notices. He feels hotter underneath his hoodie, even though the heater is set to its usual temperature.

He walks towards the general direction of their living room, until Huijun notices a flare of crimson. He backtracks, and finds a blushing sky through the window of the door, clouds grazed with marmalade, and Huijun can't resist.

He unlocks the cool metal door to their small, modest balcony, and finds an endless forest of warmth and autumn.

The coppery sun is dipping into the blanket of the grounds, painting the heavens with the ink of cherries, apricot clouds sheltering the earth protectively.

The winds whisper secrets in a language Huijun can't understand, vermilion airs setting with the sun.

"Quite a sight, isn't it?" Huijun snaps his head back towards the door, where Minjae stands, leaning against the doorframe. He's holding a berry smoothie, lightly oscillating the cup to swirl the drink.

" _This_ is where you go to?" Huijun asks incredulously, gesturing towards the scene.

"Yeah," Minjae whispers, and Huijun returns his gaze towards the maroon city.

As enduring Minjae seemed at times, there would always be instances where it would all become too much, Huijun knows that much. He understands that a little too well, but he supposes it becomes a by-product of being by someone's side for a long time.

What he didn't know is where Minjae would go to diffuse the pressure out of his bones. Partly because Huijun never wanted to invade, but also because it would be hardly noticeable.

'Noticeable' is a harsh word, Huijun realises. Of course the others notice it, but they know better than to talk about it. They understand that Minjae's way of unraveling is isolated, and it works more often than not.

Still, Huijun can't help but feel a little stupid for not realising how this balcony is the perfect spot. The five barely use it, the chances of unwelcome cameras is always imminent. But Huijun hazards a guess that there might be a time where the balcony may be usable, on the right day, on the right time.

Huijun snaps out of his trance as Minjae takes a sip out of his straw and strides forward, seating himself on the concrete and slipping his legs through the railings, letting them dangle out into the air.

"Sit," Minjae pats the place adjacent to him. Huijun follows, and a minute later, he too is swinging his legs.

He watches how Minjae is bathed with ruby, his now amber eyes stealing a piece from the clouds. 

This guy is the same boy who had fallen so many times during practice, galaxies sewn to his skin. This guy is the same boy who treasured these bruises, proudly calling them the scars of war. This guy is the same boy who shone like the stars when he smiled.

"What'cha lookin' at?" Minjae squints suspiciously.

"You used to be so.. _small_ ," Huijun blurts. There's a second of silence painting Minjae's features, but then he's snorting out a surprised laugh.

"Yeah, I was a puny little kid." Minjae sighs good naturedly.

"But y'know what?" Huijun starts.

"I got _way_ better," Minjae finishes, his face splitting into a lazy beam.

"Yeah," Huijun smiles leisurely. Suddenly, Minjae yells.

"Heyo!" Huijun jumps in his seat and Minjae nearly drops his cup, wildly scratching his back. They both snap their heads towards the source of their alarm, distressed voices overlapping.

"Would you _stop_ doing that?!"

"What was that for?!"

"Whatcha talkin' about?" Seungmin doesn't seem too bothered with their outburst, "I heard Minjae laugh really loud." He plops himself through the railings shrinking defensively as Minjae retracts his arm from his back, hand filled with a small pile of ice, ears turning pink.

"Was I really that loud—?"

"What's with all this ruckus?" Seongjun's voice emerges from the doorway, followed by Junhyuk singing some abstract tune, and Huijun can almost feel Minjae cringe.

"Seungmin hyung poured ice down Minjae's back," Huijun answers.

"Yeah, that I know," He sniggers.

"Woah, you two were enjoying this _alone_?" Junhyuk is scrutinizing the wild yonders, nearly craning his neck straight up.

"Talk about feeling left out," Seongjun adds light-heartedly.

Five pairs of legs dangle from between the balcony railings, some swinging in harmony, some still. The scarlet skies paint their faces and the breeze fills in the gaps of a comforting silence.

Huijun pulls his jacket closer to himself as cold shivers ripple through his skin.

"Hey, you know that huge old food stall in the underground subway?" Seongjun pipes.

"The one with the rude lady?" Minjae inquires.

"Yeah, apparently it's closing down."

"About time," Junhyuk says, "' _This restaurant has been running in business for fifty long years!',"_ He mimics a cracking old voice, the four chortling.

"Yeah, fifty long years in a dark, murky hole," says Seungmin.

"It's not even a restaurant, what's she playing at?" Minjae huffs, swinging his legs.

A beat.

"Y'know what else has been in a hole for fifty years?" Huijun states, chin resting in his arms, deep in thought, "Dead people from the sixties."

Seongjun's warning glare dissolves into snickers, and eventually, full blown laughter saturates the airs.

"Okay, what the hell man," Junhyuk titters.

"I worry about you, Huijun," Seungmin grins, jaded disbelief coating his features.

"Make sure to never bring this guy near the woman, he'd probably get himself arrested or something," Minjae slaps Huijun on his back.

"You'd bail me out though."

"Yeah, I always got your back." 

Huijun beams and inhales,

_"Makin' a fool of me, I'm so keen—"_

"Oh, come on!"

"You two have a song for literally everything."

_"—baby I got your back, like we're still seventeen!"_

Minjae finishes with Huijun, then quietens to mumble the lyrics under his breath.

"You two are embarrassing," Junhyuk voices.

The sky was now a faded indigo, cementing into the earlier blushes of red. The sun has nearly slept now, and the stars are slowly starting to blink awake.

The winds howl against the shell of his ears, and shivers tide through his skin.

"Y'know what? I'm cold," Huijun declares, garnering a round of approving hums.

One by one, they all pull themselves out of the railing, with Seongjun being the last one, all hurrying to close the door so as not to let any cold air get in.

On their way down the hallway, Minjae gingerly tugs at Huijun's sleeve.

"Hey, uh," he starts, visibly awkward, "thanks," he mumbles.

Huijun blinks, "What for?"

"I don't know, man," Minjae shrugs, "just— thanks. For whatever you did. I feel better."

Feeling a little lost, Huijun opts to ruffle the older's hair.

"Anytime, man."

Minjae beams and the sky is ebony.

  
  
  


_17 —MK_


	5. Moonstone

_**MOONSTONE** _

__

_Compassion, empathy, creativity._

After surviving a near fatal tickle attack courtesy of Minjae, Huijun feels the energy in him slowly drain out of his body as he crawls back into the living room, slumps over the couch armrest, groaning the loudest he can.

"Good evening to you too," Junhyuk says nonchalantly. He was in a rather strange yet natural couch position, and it reminded Huijun vaguely of those ridiculous posture memes. The boy was scrolling through his phone, sipping a mug of hot chocolate that seemingly only he is able to consume.

Huijun recalls Junhyuk's last few shots at making hot chocolate. Didn't pan out well; Huijun couldn't taste anything sweet for the rest of the day.

It never stopped Junhyuk from trying, of course. Ever since his first attempt— which no one speaks of— he's been hell-bent on making it actually taste good.

He's been improving, Huijun would be surprised if he wasn't, but he's still got a long way.

He almost asks for a sip, but promptly decides against it.

The two jolt alert as Seungmin's angry voice strings together the most creative of curses Huijun has heard in a while.

A beat.

The boys fall into a strained silence in order to maintain whatever dignity Seungmin now has left. Junhyuk doesn't give a shit about whatever dignity Seungmin has left, however, and watches the last few shards of the man crumble as he lets loose a belt of laughter that can be heard from outside the building.

And then the dorm erupts into wild cackles.

_"Oy!"_ Seungmin weakly snaps, and he too dissolves into sheepish, uncharacteristically embarrassed chortles, "Just gimme the damn controller."

There's a small crash, making Junhyuk flinch. "Huijun," Seongjun's voice is laced with urgency as it reverberates from the kitchen, "help me?"

Huijun finds the eldest guarding the ceramic cabinet with his arms cautiously, the cups and bowls tipped dangerously over outwards.

After helping stabilise the cabinets, Huijun returns with a handful of toffees Seongjun found in one of the cups.

Mundane murmurs now return; Minjae still not done snickering at the older, Seongjun goes back to whatever he was doing in their rooms, and the atmosphere thins.

Huijun feels almost disappointed at how normalcy is easily influenced.

So he coils back a little, then pounces on Junhyuk, pulling a yelp from the younger boy.

_"Hyung!"_

"Ha."

"You're heavy! Get _off_ —" And Huijun tumbles to the floor. He lays there, accepting defeat as he stares at the blank ceiling.

"Oh, mighty one, you have defeated me—"

"I downloaded it."

Huijun blinks.

_'Wait—'_

He perks up, eyes suddenly starry. Huijun had actually pestered Junhyuk alot to watch this one show he really started to like, going so far as to buying it's books.

When the nights were tireless and timeless, Seungmin would ask amongst the hush of their dorm,

_"So, tell me about that one show you really like."_

And Huijun would abandon his phone in favour of gushing about it all. Huijun would lay with his hands cushioning his head, hints of a smile on his face as he would tell the mattress above him the genius that was the story of it all.

Obviously, Seungmin would silently depart into dreams while listening to Huijun, but the younger appreciates his efforts regardless.

However, Junhyuk— once the initial annoyance dissipated— grew curious about what the heck happens in his world, and Huijun became a little too eager.

"For real?" 

Junhyuk nods. Huijun feels like a five-year-old kid who has been offered his favourite candy bar.

"How many?" The older struggles to keep his excitement out of his tone. Junhyuk finally turns to look at him, eyes splattered with moonstone from his phone screen. A stark contrast to the dimly lit room they're lounging in.

"About a season or so."

"Seongjun hyung is using my air pods," Huijun turns towards the former's general direction.

Junhyuk shrugs, "Eliminate him."

Huijun opts to borrow Seungmin's instead, and Junhyuk seems obviously disappointed. 

Around the fifth episode or so, Huijun fails to notice a blanket being draped over the two, too absorbed in picking apart new details he manages to grasp.

"I love this show more than I love you," Huijun says, smacking the back of his hand against Junhyuk's shoulder.

There's a beat, and Huijun realises the bag of chips is closer to the youngest than him.

"Hey Junhyuk, can you grab me that?"

"Why don't you ask your friend the evil demon triangle, huh?" Junhyuk mutters, eyes glued to the screen as he reaches for the snack.

Around the twelfth episode, both boys grew locked to the screen, eagerly chowing down some freshly popped popcorn.

"Wanna hear a poem?" Junhyuk pipes during the credits.

"Sure."

"Autumn winds,

Autumn sins."

Huijun turns to look at him, "Okay?"

"Autumn times,

Autumn crimes."

"What's even considered an autumn crime?" Huijun hugs the blanket closer to himself.

"Robbing a gas station then blowing it up. In November."

"Okay yeah, that makes sense."

Around the twentieth episode, Junhyuk is calmly asleep, head resting against Huijun's shoulder and against the couch. The latter opts to keep watching, managing to catch the news of the show getting a new episode.

Around midnight, Huijun feels the buzz of the previous episode hammering against his skin. 

Then Seungmin snatches Junhyuk's phone from him and whisper-yells at him to sleep, cautiously trying not to wake the youngest up.

Huijun wants to argue, but fatigue has successfully turned his vocal cords against him, he muses bitterly. Huijun still wants the last word though, so he instead sticks his tongue out at the older, who answers with his own hideous expression.

Junhyuk looks uncharacteristically small against his shoulder, hair falling to cover his eyes. This doesn't happen too often, just in moments where slivers of genuine comfort peak through his otherwise aloof exterior.

_'Aloof?'_ Huijun internally cackles.

Junhyuk is but a starry-eyed kid, much like the rest of the team, who collects passion like it's some sort of power up— levelling up in an endless game.

But he's also the bitter wake of coffee in the morning, a jolt of energy none knew needed. He's a blaring reminder that in these intimidating, dense forests of uncertainty, they're all just kids.

And as much as Huijun hates to admit it to himself, it's this reminder that finally gives them the sweet breath of solace.

Sometimes Junhyuk would be as blunt as the moon— he'd address the elephant in the room without skipping a beat. It's a quality that has both caused them trouble and has unearthed ways to avoid it.

When it's the latter, the four compete giving the youngest the firmest, most dizzying noogies, the competition escalating into something more anyway. Huijun supposes they do that regardless of Junhyuk landing them in trouble or not.

But Junhyuk still smiles like he speaks in crescents, he still cries like the tides, and he still irritates them like an endearing constant.

Huijun kicks a cushion off the couch.

From somewhere within the confines of their rooms, the traitorous hypocrite he names Nam Seungmin is heard yelling words Huijun's sleep sedated mind can't process.

_'They're playing games,'_ Huijun sulks, obviously wanting to see what pissed the usually calm dancer off.

"Request for you to lower your decibel," he calls.

"Request denied!" Seungmin cheers in answer.

Junhyuk stirs slightly in his sleep, and Huijun unconsciously threads his hands through his hair. This effectively puts the younger back to sleep, now completely snuggled against the couch.

Huijun pulls him closer so that Junhyuk's head is on his shoulder again. Suddenly a headache wrecks his skull again, and he groans.

"Minjae?" Huijun calls out, simultaneously playing with the sleeping youngest's hair.

"Yeah?"

"You had some painkillers last night?" There's shuffling, and Minjae pokes out the doorframe.

"Dude, I forgot where I kept them— it'll take a search," he says sheepishly and Huijun is too tired to care anymore.

"I'll have them in the morning, just make sure to find them by then," Huijun yawns as Minjae leaves.

A memory from the morning flashes across his mind, and Huijun reminds himself to sneak his notebook back from Seongjun.

_Ghosts —Ikson_


	6. Stalagmites and Stalactites

**_STALAGMITES AND STALACTITES_**

_Meant to be._

It's cool. The blanket is cool. The scent of fallen rain blurs his senses. Huijun feels cool and comfortable.

Too comfortable.

_"OY!"_

Huijun jolts awake underneath the blanket— which is ripped off of him by a laughing Seungmin not even a second later. Beside him, Junhyuk grumbles in his sleep.

" _ALL MY FRIENDS ARE WATCHIN', I CAN HEAR THEM TALKIN'_ — Hey!"

Huijun realises in his groggy state that he isn't the only one who has whacked Seungmin with his pillow. Junhyuk has instead used one of the harder sofa cushions to attack. He lets out a budding chortle as Junhyuk swings repetitively at an apprehensive Seungmin.

"Ow, _dude_ —!" Junhyuk pauses, eyeing Seungmin, who has taken the chance to immediately back away. Junhyuk frowns and flings the cushion at him. But to no avail, because Junhyuk's aim is as accurate as a bat's. "What gives?"

"Nightmare," Junhyuk says simply, eyes lazing shut.

"Oh," Seungmin places the cushion on the coffee table, "you need anything?"

"Breakfast would be great."

"Yeah, Minjae's on it." A natural silence falls over the room, only broken by the occasional, distant clack of ceramic— ..and some strange popping?

The living room's curtains are pulled back, the dull teal walls dipped in the sun's blush. Huijun brings the knuckles of his thumbs to his eyes, rubbing gingerly. 

It's a crisp morning, the cool seeping into his skin, the air calm. It's not as cold as last morning, the chill feels more comfortable now. He reopens his eyes, and cedar ones stare right back.

"What?" Huijun squints at Seungmin, slightly intimidated. The older seems to snap out of a trance and waves his hand dismissively.

"What about you? Anything?" He asks instead.

Huijun opens his mouth to reply, but is rather silenced by the familiar scent of a cloudburst.

"Is it raining?" He asks, hope starring his eyes. Seungmin breaks into a sunlit smile, and it's contagious.

"Yeah! Luckily it's a free day, so we can go."

Junhyuk doesn't need telling twice— the boy's dashing out the living room and the sound of a door being flung open is heard, followed by Junhyuk hollering.

Huijun ruffles his own hair in an attempt to wake himself up, pulling himself to sit upright. The chillier atmosphere is soothing on his eyelids and it doesn't help his case of drowsiness. Huijun hears Seungmin laugh.

"I told you to get some sleep last night, you stubborn kid."

Huijun has a retort itching on his tongue, "Well, you—"

" _NAM SEUNGMIN!_ " Seongjun's voice reverberates through the hallway, making the man wince.

"Shit," He hisses. Huijun instead grins lazily, "I think our week's quota of being loud is complete."

Seungmin idly runs a hand through his hair, "What did I do _this_ time?"

"Go find out," Huijun's voice thickens as he stumbles up to stretch his arms, stifling a yawn. A lethargic boom of thunder rolls across the sky, and Huijun is reminded of the terrace.

Not even a moment later, Huijun finds himself hopping over the door frame and leaning against slightly rusty metal, railings cool and misty. Immediately, he feels the cold pins of rain splatter his shoulders and scalp.

The drizzle paints the sky a calm, cloudy marine as the nearly empty streets beneath them mirror the heavens. Somewhere, a lonely traffic light spills reds and greens onto the asphalt below it. Whispers of breezes ruffle between the leaves of trees as sparrows sing.

There is a rare silence that hangs from the skies, like stalactites in a beached cave. It soaks into Huijun's skin, wraps itself protectively around his bones, and heals. The breath of dawn never tasted this sweet.

It's nice. As much as Huijun does genuinely like it, it's nice that there is no complex camera equipment sprawled out in front of him, no unbearable temperatures underneath ethereal clothing, no fading into flashing lights.

Junhyuk seems to have quietened down too, hair now slightly damp, eyes rivalling the sun, scanning the view the morning has to offer.

The birds converse with thunder as it dissolves into the clouds, colouring them steel.

"Sometimes I think something elysian is gonna happen," Seongjun takes a deep, dramatic breath, just as the drizzle starts to amplify, "and boy am I right."

_'...What?'_

"Ely- what now?" Junhyuk blinks.

" _Elysian_ , something divine or heavenly," The eldest's voice sounds almost disappointed.

"Okay, sheesh, I'm sorry I don't speak big words."

Seongjun huffs. 

"By the way, what did Seungmin hyung do for you to yell his full name out?" Huijun braves Seongjun's annoyance.

"Oh, that?" He perks up, then suddenly shrinks, seemingly embarrassed.

"What?" Junhyuk presses, obviously amused.

"I— uh. How do I say this?" He pauses, "I found a plastic roach inside my leftover ramen cup."

Huijun and Junhyuk burst into laughter.

"Oh! Tell me someone here recorded it!" Junhyuk sniggers, absolutely delighted.

Just as a dull crack of thunder resonates, Minjae barrels himself against the eldest's back, effectively startling all three of them.

"I did!" The kid laughs mischievously as the rest try to pinch and jab at him in a weak attempt at revenge.

"Minjae, may I kindly have a look at your phone?" Seongjun feigns civility.

"In your dreams, pal. You'll be wrangling it from these arms," Minjae makes a point by putting Junhyuk in a half-assed headlock.

"What'd _I_ do?" The poor boy complains.

"Hey, look!" Minjae's eyes suddenly sparkle with stars as he gestures towards the streets below him. There, standing beside the convenience store, seems to be a small roof.

"Ice cream!" He exclaims, dashing back out.

"In the middle of February?" Seongjun raises a brow.

"Bring some for me!" Junhyuk follows.

"And me!" Huijun calls after them.

The drizzle seems to die down by a sliver, and the sun peaks from the fever, washing the city away from the blues.

Light showers Seongjun generously, igniting the colour of his skin. The eldest chortles as he brings a hand to shield his eyes.

Somewhere, a distinct tittering noise perks Huijun's ears, and he turns to find Seungmin, dryer than what amuses him.

"Where were you?" Seongjun whines.

"The door was giving me issues," Seungmin charms a haughty hero laugh, "again."

Seongjun heaves a sigh, "Huijun go fix your door, I finally found the oil, it's on the shelves."

If it were any other day, Huijun would've been _(sliiiiightly)_ pissy about it, finally able to fix a door that was not only making a lot of rusty noise, but also seeming to lock up on random. Huijun thought it was behaving the day before.

' _Apparently not,'_ He thinks sourly. It had to be done right when he's having a great time in the rain. The solution just had to pop up at a time when Huijun is having fun.

"Go wash and change too while you're at it. Mosquitoes will start to love you." Huijun mimicks Seongjun as the latter waves a dismissive hand.

And with that, Huijun frowns and leaves the bliss of the balcony. Seungmin grabs the oil and twirls it's nozzle between his fingers. Inside their room, Huijun holds the door open, eyeing the bit of hydraulics that he suspects is making all the noise.

"Okay, let's deal with the noise first," Huijun says absent-mindedly.

"Sounds like a plan," Seungmin says, standing on his toes to tip the oil against the screws. It's clear the older was struggling to maintain balance, and it's even clearer Huijun is absolutely amused (and endeared) by it.

A few moments later, Seungmin relaxes back to his heels, eyes still fixed on the screws.

"You think that did it?"

"Only one way to find out," Huijun lightly pushes the door open, watching it slowly return. At a 135° angle, there's no noise. At a 90° angle, there's still silence. At a 45° angle—

_Creak! Titit-tititit-titit—_

The two can't help but burst into jaded laughter, them turning to their beds.

"We're gonna go insane thanks to that noise," Seungmin sighs.

"Damn right—"

Click.

..Silence.

"Uhh," Seungmin looks over from his top bunk, "that's not a good sound."

Huijun blinks and hops out of bed. He pulls at the handle and it doesn't budge.

"Uhh, hyung?"

"Argh, not again!" Seungmin slaps a hand over his forehead.

"Where's the key?" Huijun says dully. When he's greeted with silence, he budges, pronouncing each syllable.

"Seungmin hyung, where is the key?" Immediately Seungmin breaks into nervous laughter, then dies down,

"..I swear I kept it here somewhere—"

" _Hyung_!"

"I _know_ , shut up," He mutters, embarrassed.

The sound of thunder muzzles whatever teasing words Huijun has on his tongue. From the drawn curtains near their desk, it seems that the clouds have blanketed the skies again, the drizzles amplifying to rains.

"Woah!" Huijun stares through the window like a starry-eyed kid. The window blurs and the skies bleed through the glass like liquid diamonds.

"I am the key master!" Seungmin declares with pride— holding the found key high, it glimmering under the fluorescent lights— then pointing it at Huijun threateningly, "I shall unlock your ass!"

_'Ah, sweet headache.'_

"Shut up and get us out of here," Huijun deadpans.

With a single, frustrating click, the door easily swings open. Seungmin laughs in triumph, "Seungmin: 2, Broken door: 0."

"Oh?" Minjae's voice echoes down the hallway, "You two are out? Great! Now help me set breakfast."

"Gee, some help would've been _great_ ," Seungmin says sarcastically as they both walk towards the kitchen.

"Hey, it was you who had the key, not me."

"Fair enough. Where's the ice cream?" Huijun steals Minjae's crackers.

"In my stomach, I ate it all."

"They're in the freezer, got it," Huijun checks up on the freezer nonchalantly and Seungmin is heard sniggering.

And their breakfast starts with Junhyuk yodelling. The rain has magnified significantly, the patter against the windows very much audible. A dull crack of thunder silences the table— idle chatter reduced to the clatter of cutlery that sounds slightly too loud— and Huijun doesn't have to guess to know what they're all thinking.

A few strained bites later, Seongjun speaks up anyway, "Looks like the weather might postpone things for a bit."

The words ' _postpone_ ' were spoken bitter— like the candy they used to challenge each other to eat. Disappointment saturates his tones, and the table heaves a collective sigh.

Home is a breath of fresh air, a second of bliss before they return to their schedules. A sick kind of vision architectured cynically to force them to breathe.

Sometimes home becomes a luxury, so they try to establish a makeshift version of it in this dorm. But to Huijun, despite everything, it's home. Despite everything, these boys are a breath of fresh air.

Despite everything, they were born to the same sunrise.

Huijun gulps his last bite, ruffles Junhyuk's hair and rises from his chair. Immediately there's whines.

"Sit," Minjae nearly commands. Gingerly, Huijun falls back into his seat, eyeing Seongjun. The man seems to grow defensive.

"What? You think we're gonna let you be? Siddown."

"My notebook please?* Huijun tests, and Seongjun bursts into loud, forced laughter.

"Ha ha ha! Great weather today!"

"I'm never getting it back, am I?" Huijun deadpans.

"Negative," Seongjun beams. Internally, Huijun swells with gratitude, not that he'd ever say that to Seongjun's face, of course.

Suddenly, the table shakes. Seungmin has slammed his palms on the wood of it.

"Wait a second, hold it," He laughs, pointing a firm albeit dazed finger at Huijun.

Huijun glances at Seungmin, to Seongjun, then back to Seungmin.

"It was you, you soggy cabbage!"

They blink. Huijun feels his lips curve upwards, but fights it.

"..What?"

"It was you— _you stole my snacks!"_

_All my friends —Madeon_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you, sincerely, to anyone who gave this fic a chance. happy debut anniversary, mcnd <33
> 
> find me on twitter: @/sunseekcr


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